Devotion audiobook

Audiobook memoir... read by Dani Shapiro.....”Devotion” was a perfect fit-read for my mood. Dani’s writing is kinda- phenomenal!! REALLY GORGEOUS!!!I found it fascinating that Dani’s Father was an Orthodox Jew and her mother was an atheists...It’s almost impossible not to share the book’s contents.... but my hands are tied. MANY LIFE-WORTHY -THEMES ARE COVERED.I DO WANT TO STRESS THIS IS A ***WONDERFUL***AUDIOBOOK COMPANION...Dani Shapiro faced her emptiness-her inner struggles - and the losses with gut honestly....She spoke with grace, with clarity, and wisdom. No... she doesn’t provide answers - However, Dani crafted a path to better understanding and finding peace. Sounds like a ‘woo-woo’ book? Honest.... it’s not!!!!If you are Jewish - or not - have kids or not - married or not - lived through 911 or not- your parents are alive or not - you do yoga or not - enjoy family dinners of pasta -French bread - and dessert - or not - are a group joiner or not - There is value in book for everyone. Read it or not .... wishing freedom & well being for everyone! ☯️

Devotion: A Memoir by Dani Shapiro reflected upon the author’s self examination of her own life as she entered her forty’s and found her way into her fifty’s. She had been brought up in a very Orthodox Jewish home and community in Brooklyn, New York. Over the years, as her life took shape and evolved, Dani Shapiro found herself questioning the life she led while she lived with her parents and among the most observant. As she approached her forty’s, Dani explored yoga, the teachings of Buddha and continued to struggle to find the most comfortable way to let Judaism back into her life and that of her family. She struggled to come to terms with loosing both her parents fairly young. She tended to question all aspects of her life but could not always find easy answers. Faith, G-d, and spiritual guidance plagued her the most. Her findings and discoveries were so enlightening. I found myself able to relate to some of the things Dani experienced and questioned. I listened to the audio CD read by Dani Shapiro. It was masterfully written and read. I highly recommend this book.

This book was great. I thought it was going to be another project-for-a-year-memoir (like Eat, Pray, Love or The Happiness Project), this time about finding spirituality. But it's much better than that - instead of being a formulaic project, it's a book-length meditation on the meaning of life, on joy, on mortality, and on God and faith. It's beautifully written and deeply absorbing.Early in the book, it's clear that the author is a pretty anxious person:"Nothing - absolutely nothing I could put my finger on - was the matter. Except that I was often on the verge of tears. Except that it seems that there had to be more than this hodgepodge of the everyday. Inside each joy was a hard kernel of sadness, as if I was always preparing myself for impending loss."Um, hello, that's me. I struggle with many of the questions and feelings that Shapiro does, and I found it really comforting to read this book. Both because I identified with her, and because though this book doesn't offer any answers, I feel like I understand just a little bit more how I want to live and how I want my life to be.

My first book by this author, it gripped and enlightened me, and prompted me to order more of her books. A well-written, thoughtful memoir that intricately explores many ambiguities, the book draws from private and particular experiences and circumstances, and doesn't lose its footing as it approaches meaning-of-life issues. It's how we live, explored from the perspective of one woman, and enlightened by her explorations into many traditions and practices.When I finish a book that particularly moves me, I go back through my postit flags and enter some passages on my quotations on this site. I don't know how to share these with my friends, but if you go to quotes and sort for my name and the author (and title maybe), you can see what I've recorded.I can't resist adding, snarkily, that this book sharply contrasts with Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love, which left me mildly disaffected--but now I hate it.

I've been following this author since I first picked up Fugitive Blue in the library way back in the early 1990's. I was fascinated with the tension between her Orthodox Jewish background and living in the secular world.She followed up her novels with a series of memoirs and from them, I learned of her great love and respect for her father, a very devout man. I also learned how she never felt she fit in with his family and community, but she kept seeking answers.Well, taking an Ancestry. com test on a whim gave her an answer - that man wasn't her bio dad. This memoir takes a deep dive into just how that happened (her parents were both dead when she discovered this). It seems her parents went to an unlicensed fertility clinic. Her mother was inseminated with sperm from an anonymous medical student. So this memoir is part solving a mystery and following clues - part vindication for always feeling an outsider - and part how to deal with such an existential crises when you're 54 years old.I thought the first two parts were handled well. The last - that existential crisis - is still a work in progress.I guess the lesson I took away from this is that your story is never really over, it it? No neat bows to tie every thread together.

I read Devotion in two days/two sittings. The structure of the book – chapters starting right where the last ended – made it difficult to find a place to stop reading and I loved it. Dani Shapiro’s narrative was so personal and spoke to me on such a deep level and that structure gave me permission to keep reading…just one more chapter. What Shapiro wrote about: Is this all there is to life? If so, why do I feel like something’s missing?, and the spiritual quest that she began, is something universal to many of us these days as we watch the ground we once thought was impenetrable disintegrating before our eyes. Shapiro has what seems a charmed life, but at the root of her quest are a lot of loss, deep loneliness, and an inability to relinquish control of the uncontrollable. For those who have experienced great loss and tragedy or have come through a “near miss” it is very difficult to trust that everything will be okay. Instead, they spend most of their time thinking about what bad thing might happen next and how they can avoid it. Shapiro addresses how “…we’re all complicated by the way we were raised” as she tries to come to terms with her strict religious upbringing and the guilt she feels for seeking other ways to find God and meaning in her life other than just the Judaism in which she was raised. I loved the interweaving of samskara (our knots of energy that each tells a story) throughout Shapiro’s narrative. She says, “Release a samskara and you release that story. Release your stories, and suddenly there is more room to breathe, to feel, to experience the world” which is what she is doing by writing this book. We are all a compilation of these stories. Some we share. Some we cannot bare to acknowledge. I equally loved Sylvia Boorstein’s metta meditation chants (the condensed version). I believe it is a wonderful way to begin a meditation routine and is something so simple that we can bring it with us wherever we go. There is also a practice Shapiro discovers at a California yoga studio that she incorporates into the end of her yoga routine that is again so simple, yet extremely powerful. There are so many stunning moments that pierced right through me, so many questions that I have asked myself sitting right there on the page. Shapiro writes in such an accessible way you feel like you are taking the journey with her, discovering what she is discovering right there with her, and equally feeling her frustration at the lack of solid answers to the existential questions that haunt us. I highly recommend this book to anyone who is unsettled and is searching for that elusive something that will help them feel more grounded. Keeping an open mind and reading about others’ experiences are the best ways to move towards that more peaceful state of being even if we find that there are no answers and we must just “live inside the questions.”Devotion: A Memoir Dani Shapiro

Actual Rating: 4.5/5It's been at least a dozen years since I read Dani Shapiro's novel, Family History, and sadly, I don't remember anything about the book other than I liked it enough keep an eye out for more by this author. I picked up one of her memoirs (Slow Motion) earlier this year, but found it too depressing and gave up after 60 pages. I've had a copy of Devotion on my shelf for several years and decided to give it a try for Nonfiction November and am happy to say that I loved it! This beautifully written memoir spoke to me on several levels and while some might disparage Shapiro's navel-gazing, I was inspired by her honesty and desire to rediscover her spirituality, not only through the traditions of her Jewish faith, but with the incorporation of yoga and meditation, as well. Passages of Note:I had reached the middle of my life and knew less than I ever had. Michael, Jacob, and I lived on top of a hill, surrounded by old trees, a vegetable garden, stone walls. From the outside, things looked pretty good. But deep inside myself, I had begun to quietly fall apart. Nights, I quivered in the darkness like a wounded animal. Something was very wrong, but I didn't know what it was. All I knew was that I felt terribly anxious and unsteady. Doomed. Each morning I drove Jacob down a dirt road to his sweet little school. We all got yearly physicals. Our well water was tested for contaminants. Nothing--absolutely nothing I could put my finger on--was the matter. Except that I was often on the verge of tears. Except that it seemed that there had to be more than this hodgepodge of the everyday. Inside each joy was a hard kernel of sadness, as if I was always preparing myself for impending loss.andTurn right, turn left. Stay home that day. Take a different route. Cross the street for no apparent reason. Say yes, say no. Get up from the breakfast table, slip into the elevator just as the doors are closing. Book the afternoon flight. Drive exactly sixty-three miles per hour. Flip a coin. Call it coincidence, luck, fate, destiny, randomness. Some would call it the hand of God. I was sure what to call it. What I did know is that this was a huge, blinking neon sign I couldn't ignore or dismiss. All these seemingly disconnected bits--a new yoga class, a teacher's particular selection of a poem, the wonders of Google and Amazon, an impulsive one-click purchase, an agreement to participate in a local charity event--all these formed a pattern, invisible to see. Do this, a gentle voice seemed to be saying. Now this. And now this. All of which had led me to be seated next to Stephen Cope: author, yogi, scholar--and director of the Institute for Extraordinary Living at Kripalu.and "Metta meditation," she went on, "is a concentration practice. It's the protection formula that the Buddha taught the monks: one of being able to depend on your own good heart. So"--she clasped her hands together--"how do we do this? By tempering one's own heart and restoring it to balance. Metta is a practice of inclining the mind in the direction of good will."Sylvia [Boorstein] then laid out for us her four favorite phrases--variations on the Buddha's original phrases--to chant silently during metta: May I feel protected and safe.May I feel contented and pleased.May my physical body support me with strength.May my life unfold smoothly with ease.The idea was to silently repeat the phrases again and again, at first focusing on ourselves, but then eventually directing the phrases to others: our closest teachers and benefactors; then our loved ones; our friends; strangers; and eventually--after much practice--to those with whom we have difficult relationships, or as it is known in Buddhist scripture, our enemies.and Writers often say that the hardest part of writing isn't the writing itself; it's the sitting down to write. The same is true of yoga, meditation, and prayer. The sitting down, the making space. The doing. It sounds so simple, doesn't it? Unroll the mat. Sit cross-legged on the floor. Just do it. Close your eyes and express a silent need, a wish, a moment of gratitude. What's so hard about that? Except--it is hard. The usual distractions--the clutter and piles of life--are suddenly, unusually enticing. The worst of it, I've come to realize, is that the thing that stops me--the shadow that casts a cold darkness across the best of my intentions--isn't the puppy, the e-mail, the UPS truck, the school conference, the phone, the laundry, the to-do lists. It's me that stops me. Things get stuck, the osteopath once said with a shrug. He gestured to the area where the neck meets the head. The place where the body ends and the mind begins. Things get stuck. It sounded so simple when he said it. It's me, and the things that are stuck. Standing in my way.andMay I be safe.May I be happy.May I be strong.May I live with ease.I recently asked Sylvia why she had simplified the metta phrases. I knew there had to be a reason. She smiled at me, then beyond me, as if looking over my shoulder into the distance. She nodded, as she often did before formulating a response."I wanted something I would always be able to say--in old age, in sickness--and have it be realistic," she said. "No matter what happens, I can always wish for strength."I'm glad I didn't let my disappointment in Slow Motion sway my decision to skip reading Devotion. This inspiring memoir is one I plan to share with my yogi friends and return to in the future. I'm eager to read Shapiro's most recent memoir, Inheritance, and may even give Slow Motion another try.

A memoir about family, faith, and motherhood. Each short chapter is a meditation in its own right. Exactly the book I needed right now. Thank you, Dani Shapiro.

Loved it and I did a lot of underlining – just as I loved and marked passages in her book Hourglass. I liked how one reviewer (excerpted from the pages before the book began) called Dani Shapiro the “gifted chronicler of frayed nerves”. And another that said the book was “powerful and haunting” and how she did such a good job in bringing other people to life in her descriptions. I agree. It was eloquently written and I relate so much to the way she thinks. There were many observations she made that uncannily matched my thoughts exactly on many topics (religion/faith, middle age, etc.). I am very curious to read her current book Inheritance where she uncovers information about her family through DNA testing. Having that glimpse into the future while reading this book was interesting because of the disconnect she seemed to have with her family. Some of my favorite quotes: If ‘God doesn’t give us more than we can handle’ is my least favorite bromide, my second least favorite is this: ‘Everything happens for a reason’….I was certain there was no reason. No reason at all. There is only luck, timing, consequences. Infinitesimal moments that added up and became personal tragedies, personal miracles. I was relieved that my friend was home safe – but something about her story was rubbing me the wrong way. Oh, so God singled you out for good fortune? For being on the right side of near misses? For specialness?I wasn’t hearing my own breath. I was always either stuck in the past, or obsessing about the future, while the present heaped its gifts on me, screaming for attention.This was the way it had always been for me: all or nothing, I realized, invariably led to nothing.I was longing for the moment I was in, even as I was in it. I was mourning it, as if we were already a yellowed photograph in an album….It was a lesson I needed to learn over and over again: to stop and simply be. To recognize these moments and enter them – with reverence and an unprotected heart – as if walking into a cathedral.I always had to brace myself for these school events. I felt cut off from the other parents, as if they lived in a country to which I had been denied access….I didn’t want to avail myself of the volunteering opportunities: the book fair, the auction. I was confused by my own response to the school community. Didn’t I want to be part of a community?...I felt isolated, though of course I was responsible for my own isolation.I had reached the middle of my life and knew less than I ever had before.I know that the worst either happens or it doesn’t. Worry is not a form of protection. So who’s the fool?I had gotten a peek at the enemy, and she was me.No matter where my mind went, it all boiled down to this: it kept comparing.Deep within my body, the past is still alive. Everything that has ever happened keeps happening.I had begun to feel – and it was a bitter feeling – that the world could be divided into two kinds of people: those with an awareness of life’s inherent fragility and randomness, and those who believed they were exempt.Pleasure and pain, gain and loss, praise and blame, fame and disrepute, as the Buddhists say. All lives contain all of these.It wasn’t getting easier because it isn’t supposed to get easier. Midlife was a bitch, and my educated guess was that the climb only got steeper from here. Carl Jung put it perfectly: “Thoroughly unprepared we take the step into the afternoon of life.”…. Are we unprepared simply because preparation is not possible?...We can’t see what’s coming. We can’t know it. All we have is our hope that all will be well, and our knowledge that it won’t always be so. We live in the space between this hope and this knowledge.Whatever you think you can do or believe you can do, begin it. Action has magic, grace and power in it.We were complicated by our history, by the religion of our ancestors….I could take the bits and pieces that made sense to me, and incorporate them into the larger patchwork of our lives.